


Harry Potter, Eat Your Heart Out!

by irrationalrage (serenelystrange)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Love, M/M, Only good things here, only love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 07:41:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8524378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serenelystrange/pseuds/irrationalrage
Summary: There are no wizards in this story. But there is a whole lot of fluff! And sappiness, and pack feels. Only good things! Because the real world has been especially awful lately.





	

The thing is, Derek never intended to fall in love again. He’s been resigned for years now to his inevitable fate of growing old surrounded by pack and their new ever-growing family, but with no partner of his own. Which is why this whole thing with Stiles metaphorically knocks him flat on his ass.

It starts with a smile. No, it starts with an eye-roll, because it’s still Stiles, after all. They’d been celebrating Isaac’s college graduation, the last one of them to finish, at last, and he’d walked into his spacious living room to see Erica climbing Isaac’s back like a monkey, yelling something about the candy he had being hers and how very dare he try to steal from someone in her delicate condition. Derek is in the middle of sharing an exasperated eye roll with Stiles from across the room when her words click in his head, and the realization dawns across Stile’s face at the exact same time. His eye roll turns into a giant grin and he beams over at Derek for a moment before launching himself at the scrabbling pair.

“You’re pregnant?!” he shouts, managing to scoop Erica from Isaac’s back and grab the candy from his shocked hands at the same time.

Erica snatches the bag from him and holds it protectively against her still-flat stomach.

“Yes,” she says simply, as if this doesn’t change literally their entire world. “And the baby wants some Twizzlers.”

Stiles just snorts in amusement, catching Derek’s eye again and giving him a small smile, before settling down on the couch, no doubt to text Scott to come over to hear the news.

Isaac’s dropped to his knees and has one ear pressed firm against Erica’s belly, looking up at her with soft reverence clear across his face.

“I can’t hear anything,” he says, pouting slightly.

“I’m barely two months along,” Erica says, “you’ll be able to hear the heartbeat soon. We only confirmed it yesterday. Boyd hugged the doctor so hard I swear I heard bones creak! It was adorable.”

“I’ll be the best uncle, little wolfy, promise,” Isaac whispers to Erica’s stomach before he stands up and wraps her in a tight but careful hug.

It’s a beautiful moment, but all Derek finds himself staring at is the look on Stile’s face. He looks almost radiant as Erica, practically glowing with happiness, eyes almost golden in the setting sun’s light where it streams across him from the window blinds. He’s looking at Erica like he can’t believe that she gets to be happy after everything they’ve been through, and maybe a little bit like it’s something he might want too someday.

It catches Derek’s breath in his throat, because since when has Stiles been so beautiful? When did he grow up from the anxious child he’d met nearly ten years ago into the man he sees now? Tall and strong, with sharp cheekbones and wide shoulders, and god, were his lips always that inviting and pink? Derek may or may not be having a complete life crisis at the moment, but Erica breaks into the moment by coming up to him and poking him in the shoulder, hard.

“You haven’t said anything,” she says, looking up at him with wide, sad eyes. “Aren’t you happy for me?”

It snaps him out of his thoughts and he immediately pulls her into a hug, rubbing his cheek against hers gently along the way.

“Of course I’m happy for you,” he whispers, all too aware of Stiles and Isaac’s eyes on them. “You and Boyd are going to be amazing parents.”

Erica burrows a little closer and rests her head on his shoulder for a long moment. He might not be an Alpha anymore, but he’ll always be hers. He can feel the connection to his three betas still, always faintly coursing through him, and it spikes now, like it knows they’re getting a new addition. Erica smells like sun-soaked air and clean linen, like something unsullied and precious that he hasn’t smelled in so many years, and Derek only barely manages to hold back the welling tears in his eyes. Erica, to her credit, just holds on and lets him have his moment.

.

.

Many hours later, after the graduation turned ‘congratulations on the baby’ party has died down, the only one to stick around to help clean up is unsurprisingly Stiles. Derek thinks back and realizes that it’s been that way for years now, and he’s just never really thought about it. Mostly he just figured his other pack members were lazy and preferred to escape rather than stick around and help.

“They’re all nearly 25 years old,” Stiles grumbles from the livingroom as he tosses cans and empty paper plates into a trash bag, “you’d think they wouldn’t be such slobs.”

Derek laughs from where he’s loading the dishwasher, unable to see Stiles from the kitchen, but able to hear him just fine.

“It’s only going to get worse once the baby is born,” he says, but he can’t quite keep the smile out of his voice.

“Holy shit, right?” Stiles says, tying up the bag and putting it by the door to take outside later. He comes over and bumps Derek with his hip to get him to move over so he can wash his hands in the sink. When he’s done, Derek bumps him back, just to be an asshole, and moves to wash his own hands, accepting the towel from Stiles to dry them with a nod of thanks.

“Hey,” Stiles says after a minute, leaning back against the counter, brushing his shoulder against Derek’s. “You’re gonna be a grandpa! My dad’s gonna be so jealous.”

Derek sighs.

“I’m not even 30 yet,” he says, “and I’m definitely not any of you miscreants’ father.”

Stiles turns and looks over at Derek with wide, serious eyes.

“Wolves age differently, Derek. We all know that.”

He hold the stare for an impressive ten whole seconds before he cracks and starts laughing, dropping his head down onto Derek’s shoulder because he’s shaking so hard.

“Your face, man, your face!”

“Shut up,” Derek says, and he swears he only grabs Stiles’ neck to pull him away, but the next thing he knows, Stiles isn’t laughing anymore.

Instead he’s looking at Derek with hooded eyes, body pressed a lot closer than it was a moment before, skin on his neck burning hot beneath Derek’s hand. He can feel Stiles’ pulse like this, thumping wildly in his throat. He can’t help it, he leans down and buries his face against the soft skin there, breathing in his scent.

“Derek…” Stiles says, trailing off as if he doesn’t know which question to ask first.

And then Derek feels long fingers in his hair, and Stiles is the one pulling his head away, and he panics for a long terrifying moment before Stiles links his hands behind Derek’s neck and kisses him soundly on the mouth. His eyes close on instinct and his other hand comes up of its own accord to wrap around Stiles’ waist and pull him impossibly closer. Stiles kisses more sweetly than he would have thought, gentle and earnest, but so good that Derek’s knees feel like they might buckle at any moment. So he leans back against the counter and lets his body take over, kissing Stiles back with everything he has and trusting him to hold him up if his legs give out.

.

.

Stiles doesn’t stay the night, doesn’t try to lead them to the bedroom, doesn’t do much at all except kiss Derek senseless and turn his world upside down in the process. Eventually they do pull apart and Stiles tells him he has to go, he has a deadline that he’ll never make if he allows himself to be distracted all night. Derek nods, not quite trusting his own voice, secretly pleased to be considered a good enough distraction to prevent Stiles from doing his job.

“We are going to talk about this,” Stiles says, as he’s pulling on his jacket and making sure he has his phone and keys. “Just after I’ve had time to sleep and think and make sure it isn’t some sort of bizarre fever dream or something.”

“You kissed me,” Derek feels the need to point out, “I’m the one who should making sure it’s not a dream.”

Stiles smiles then, a little sadly, and grabs one of Derek’s hands in his own, pulling up their linked fingers for inspection.

“See?” he says, “only five fingers each, not a dream.”

“Good,” Derek says, squeezing his hand once before letting go. “You should go home before I beg you to stay. Or just tie you up so you can’t leave.”

Stiles laughs at that, loud and bright, and darts forward for one last kiss.

“Another time, wolf-man, another time.”

And then he’s gone and Derek absolutely doesn’t watch him drive off from the front window like a sad puppy. Except that he definitely does.

.

.

They don’t end up talking. Stiles comes back a couple of days later, reeking of nerves. As if Derek could ever change his mind. He tries to explain how he feels when Stiles asks, but all the words seem too big and way too soon for something so new, so he ends up kissing Stiles instead and it all sort of spirals from there. It’s not until a few months later that Derek realizes that Stiles has practically moved in, and he’s more scared than he cares to admit about how right it all feels.  They haven’t had The Talk yet, but Stiles fits into his life so seamlessly that Derek doesn’t feel the need to put a label to anything until Stiles does. At least this way, he doesn’t have to examine his feelings too closely, and can just enjoy what they have.

Stiles, of course, has to throw a wrench into his carefully crafted plan of not asking any questions he’s not sure he knows the answers to.

“Scott asked about us today,” Stiles says one night, from where’s he’s tucked up under Derek’s arm on the couch as they watch Law & Order.

“Oh?” Derek hmms, watching with satisfaction as Stabler tackles a particularly heinous suspect to the ground.

“Yes, _oh_ ,” Stiles says, reaching for the remote and muting the television.

“What about?” Derek asks when Stiles un-tucks himself so he can turn and face Derek.

Stiles gives him a pointed look, like he should know damn well what Scott was asking about.

“He wanted to know what your… you know… _intentions_ toward me were,” Stiles says, laughing a little at Scott’s ridiculousness.

“He’s not my Alpha,” Derek replies, mostly to stall, which Stiles see right through.

“Seriously, man,” Stiles says. “I don’t have the magic chemo-signal smelling and heartbeat hearing advantages you guys do. I’m running blind here, so you need to use your words with me. Because I know how I feel about you, but all know for sure from you is you love getting all up on this hot bod.”

He says the last part with sarcasm, actually using air quotes and everything, and it’s just so _Stiles_ that Derek can’t help but snort a laugh even though he knows it’s supposed to be a serious moment.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I didn’t mean to make you feel like I was only with you for…that.” When Stiles just looks at him expectantly, he sighs and continues.

“The only nights I don’t dream are the ones that you’re with me,” he says, and it’s like a dam has broken and he finds himself spilling words out of his mouth at a pace that could rival Stiles when over-caffeinated.

“I haven’t slept for years without nightmares, and you make them go away just by existing. When you aren’t here in the mornings, my whole day feels wrong. Everything smells like you now, and if your scent starts to fade before you come back I have to sleep on your pillow just so I can actually fall asleep. I think about you at the dumbest times, like when I was at the grocery store and I almost bought you flowers before talking myself out of it. Or when I was trying to put together that awful IKEA crib with Boyd and Isaac and all I could think about was how you would have either put it together in five minutes or smashed it to pieces with the hammer. Or when Cora called and was teasing me about still not painting most of the rooms in the house, and I couldn’t admit to her that I didn’t want to until I knew what you would like too. Because it’s too much, and it’s too big, and I’m terrified that I love you more than you love me, and even though I know I could, I really don’t want to live in a future without you. And….yeah, I guess that’s about it.”

Stiles is staring at him, uncharacteristically silent, eyes wide with shock and wet with what Derek hopes are happy tears.

“I… I love flowers, dude,” he says, finally, “you should totally buy me flowers whenever you want.”

Derek scoffs and laughs, because how can he not?

“That’s what you focus on?” he asks, his own voice a little wobbly.

“Give me a minute to process here,” Stiles says, “you just said more words at once than I think I’ve ever heard you say in the 8 years I’ve known you.”

“Take your time,” Derek says, because Stiles hasn’t run away in fear or disgust yet, so he’s already counting it as a win.

“I don’t even need my pillow when I sleep with you,” Stiles says at last, giving Derek a soft smile. “I still dream sometimes, but I never have nightmares when I’m with you. And I think about you too, all the time. The other day I actually googled the tax benefits of married couples, Derek. It’s only been a few months, and I’m already thinking of our retirements plans! I want a cabin on a ranch somewhere, by the way. Want to learn how to ride a horse. Maybe lasso something.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Derek says, but his throat chokes on the words around the happy little sob that wants to escape.

“There is absolutely no way that you could love me any more than I love you,” Stiles continues. “Hell, I’ve loved you since I was 18 and you hugged me goodbye when I left for college. I just didn’t realize how in love with you I was until, well, you know.”

“Until you kissed me,” Derek says, and he pulls Stiles onto his lap, wrapping him up into an awkward hug that he’s definitely too tall for, but neither of them can be bothered to care.

They stay there for a long while silently, just sharing warmth and breathing each other in, before Stiles speaks again.

“You know,” he says, “I think we’re gonna make a pretty great story one day. Maybe I’ll write it.”

Derek just smiles and nips at the pulse thrumming against Stile’s skin. “I think we already are.”

 

Before they know it, it’s Olivia’s first birthday, and the pack takes advantage of Derek’s large house to hold the party. The little girl has unabashedly stolen the hearts of everyone in the pack. She’s a daddy’s girl through and through, sometimes going whole days when Boyd is the only one she’ll wants, but it’s already obvious that she knows she has a whole big pack that loves her, and that she’ll never lack for anything if they have their way.

Scott and Allison gift her with a comically large stuffed plush wolf with bright golden eyes that she immediately latches onto, even though it’s nearly twice her size. Kira brings her the smallest ukulele they’ve ever seen, and pulls out her own to sing them all a sweet song she’d written just for Livvie. Erica laughs at Boyd when he cries, but they all know it’s just to draw attention away from her own tears. Cora can’t make the party, but she sends a gift card to Toys R Us and a video message through Derek where she promises she’ll come visit soon and kiss Olivia’s little face until she’s sick of her. Isaac bakes her a cake that’s taller than Olivia herself, and lets her shove whole fistfuls of it into his face even though she makes a mess. It’s worth it to see the delighted gummy smile on her face.

Once they’re all finally gone, Stiles drags Derek into their gigantic tub for a long and relaxing bubble bath. Derek protests at first, there’s still so much to clean up and put away, but Stiles just hushes him with a kiss.

“It’ll be there in the morning,” he says, “but your poor human boyfriend is full of sore muscles right now, come soak with me.”

And really, how can Derek say no to that?

The long bath is follow by even longer love-making, even if Stiles still sometimes giggles when they call it that. But there’s no other word for it when it’s like this, sweet and slow and intense, like they’re protected by the heat surrounded them, like nothing else exists outside of their bed. Like it couldn’t possibly get better than this.

.

.

“Do you want kids?” Stiles asks into the dark, when they’re lying in bed that night, sated and warm and peaceful.

Derek considers lying for long moment. Thinks about telling Stiles that’s he’s never really thought about it, or that he loves Olivia but he’s not sure he wants any kids of his own. Or anything else that sounds less crazy than the immediate YES his body screams at him.

“I do,” he says, instead, relaxing when he sees the outline of the pleased smile on Stile’s face.

“Good,” Stiles says. “Me, too. Maybe not for a few years, but yeah. I want a family with you. You’re gonna be the hottest dad, the housewives will be so jealous.”

“You’re an idiot,’ Derek says, but he’s grinning and then tackling a surprised Stiles into a long kiss.

“We’ll be the best family, Stiles says when he’s all kissed out and yawning, “you’ll see.”

“We will,” Derek agrees, “I guess we’ll be adding a few more chapters to that book you’re going to write about us.”

“We’ll be a trilogy at least,” Stiles says firmly, “maybe a whole series. Harry Potter eat your heart out!”

Derek just laughs, heart fuller than he can ever remember it being, and falls asleep smiling to the sound of Stiles mumbling possible names of all their future children. He can’t wait to get started.

The End

 


End file.
